If You're Gone
by Meep meep
Summary: I looked him up, your Doctor part curiosity, more jealousy and all empty clawing bitterness that you left and you’re happier now that you’re gone while I have to struggle and fight my way through the minutes that make the hours Ianto POV Matchbox series


Disclaimer: characters do not belong to me! Also, story contains spoilers for Cyberwoman, End of Days, The Sound of Drums and Last of the Time Lords

AN: Part of the Matchbox series, written from the song 'If You're Gone'

It's not their fault, I know this. I knows that he needs to stop blaming them for Jack's disappearing act, but it's just so much easier to take the anger out on them than it is to face the fact that you're gone – that you won't be coming back.

I saw you're face on the news, love. And I know that you're with him (I looked him up, after that bulletin was posted, hunted through the archives even though they were coming for us, coming to find us because of you), the Doctor. And it kills me that on the news reels you're looking to him for instruction (parent/teacher/partner) and that you're obeying the commands he gives you. God, Jack, if the man says jump when would you reach the moon? (I know I shouldn't say that, shouldn't speak ill of you, but god it's so hard to be here without you). So yes, I looked him up, your Doctor (part curiosity, more jealousy and all empty clawing bitterness that you left and you're happier now that you're gone while I have to struggle and fight my way through the minutes that make the hours) and it scares me just how alike you are. Leaders, fighters, (killers) all about saving the world whatever the cost (but neither of you realising that it can't be saved, that humanity can't be saved because what we are fighting, ultimately, is ourselves).

And it scares me too, how lost I feel now that you're gone because what I felt after Lisa was nothing, _nothing_ compared to what I'm feeling now. And I hate that you can make me feel that. And I hate that I only realised this after you left (like I could have stopped you going, like anything could have stopped you going, even if I had told you the truth, even if I'd always told you the truth).

And Owen tried setting me up while you were gone (nice girl, nice guy, but none of them _you_ so none of them counted, even when he tried two at a time) and every time I saw one of them I'd start comparing them in my head (smile a little less crooked, clothes a little too modern, accent all wrong) and it seems that my head has forgotten I was capable of loving anyone other than you, despite the hollow echoes my heart gets when I think of her.

And I hate, too, that now that you're gone all I can do is tear apart the people around me, like they haven't enough pain to deal with without adding mine. And oh, god, I hate Gwen so much _all the time_ because there are days when she doesn't seem to realise that you've left which are followed by the days where she's just _so_ depressed and lost because you aren't here anymore, and all I can do is compare her pain to mine, because although she got pieces of you that you never shared with anyone else (not even me, no matter how many times I tried to make you see that my past was twisted too) she never had you. And having had you is what makes this so hard, like something sitting on my chest and stopping me from breathing.

Every breathe I take I can feel the band around my ribs tighten until I can barely move, barely stand, and there are days where all I'll do is lie in bed and scream at the walls until I can think again. They've stopped expecting me at the office - they seem surprised when I manage to show my face. And Tosh, god, every time she looks at me I can practically feel her eyes tearing into my mind and forcing her sympathy down my throat (which is unfair because she's the only one of them I can actually like half the time but her pity makes me want to throw up because there's so little she knows and absolutely nothing she can do). I find myself stuck to Owen most days, because they can't handle me and they feel I need a sitter (and I prefer his company because at least the sting from his comments distracts me from the loss, and half of it is true anyway).

And I find myself thinking, almost all the time, that if you were ever to come back I'd spend all my time thinking and worrying and aching and questioning over what would happen if you're gone.

And I hate you, Jack, more than anything, for the fact that I already know the answers.


End file.
